


It's Not a Couch, It's an Island

by Falke



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Language, Mid-Canon, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falke/pseuds/Falke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever Nick was going through, it was her fault. She was making him do things he wasn't comfortable with, trying to fit him into her life and satisfy her own impulses in ways that just weren't going to work.</p><p>By the time she made it home to her dark room, that carried his presence and scent as much as it did hers now, Judy had decided she wouldn't blame him if he didn't come back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is set mid-canon (just barely). It includes brief language, a little action scene I'm still not quite sure fits with the rest of the story and minor spoilers from the movie. Otherwise it's pure unadulterated cohabitation slice-of-life fluff.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> (And thank you all for the kind feedback! It's very motivating. I hope I can keep it up for you!)

"You're serious."

Judy couldn't see his eyes through the reflective lenses he'd picked up somewhere, but she knew from long experience Nick was frowning at her.

"Your alternative is, what, two weeks out on the streets again?"

"Not so bad if you stay downtown. And you forget I got through two decades of that just fine."

They were out at the end of the pier in the central lakefront, sipping on coffees from her favorite vendor cart. The porcupine who ran it knew her face now, well enough to remember she took her coffee half-caf.

"You're respectable now, fox." Judy watched his fingers drum on the cardboard sleeve of his cup. "I'm not going to let you slink off under that bridge again. You know what happened last time."

Nick considered, opened his mouth.

"And don't say you'll go live with Finnick," Judy said.

He closed his mouth and directed what she assumed was a glare her way. "Then something short-term-"

"Short-term leases don't exist in the city center," she cut him off. "Believe me, I checked. I did the same thing you're doing now, almost."

Nick pushed off the pier and started a slow walk back to the street. "You've got me all boxed in, then."

"It's an option, is all I'm saying. A good one."

Nick would have his own place right on the edge of downtown in less than a month, once the department finished sorting through paperwork on a set of new civil servant leases. ZPD was cutting him a sweet housing pension, on account of his help with the predator incident months prior. They'd offered Judy one of the new apartments, too, but she'd grown attached to her little place. It was quaint, no matter how many times Nick insisted on spelling 'quaint' 'ramshackle.' It certainly beat living under a bridge.

"Fine." Nick pulled his glasses off. Judy was relieved to see his expression was one of noble long suffering, rather than any real irritation with her persistence. "You win, Carrots. What are you thinking, air bed?"

"Couch, actually." She waved her phone and tried to keep the smirk off her face. "There are a dozen within two blocks of here in the classifieds."

\---

They found one on the third try, in another apartment lobby less than a block from Judy's place. A kindly old bear widow showed them a battered green sofa that sagged a bit in the center.

"I'm afraid it's looking a bit old," she said, waving a paw at the threadbare arms. "But it's in good shape, and I really just want it out of here so it's not taking up space. I'll even pay you if you can cart it out to the curb."

The age-smoothed wood frame that made up either end appeared to be made of solid oak. But it smelled innocent enough and wasn't stained with anything, which was more than they could say for the last two candidates.

It took a dolly and a wheeled painter's cart borrowed from the lobby of Judy's building, but they managed to get it out and bumping down the sidewalk. Judy led Nick to the service entrance, where there was an ancient freight elevator that stopped at her floor.

Nick sat against the arm of the couch as they rode, digging experimental claws into the upholstery. "How wide is your doorway?"

She blinked. "Oh."

Nick snorted at her expression. "Hope you like it, then, because I bet it'll be even harder to get out."

She led the way down her hallway, steering while he pushed, and because she was busy thinking of furniture dimensions she didn't notice how he kept staring around.

"This is an all-prey floor, isn't it?"

"I think so. The whole building, actually."

Nick pulled the couch to a stop and looked at her. "And you don't think that's a problem?"

She hadn't so much as considered it, actually, and it wasn't until she got a look at his face that Judy realized she hadn't thought this through.

"Why would it be?"

His ears flattened. "You're smarter than that. It means nobody's going to expect a fox coming and going."

'And why should that matter?' was her reflexive first thought. The city was over its collective predator/prey crisis. She and Nick had seen to that personally. Why would her neighbors care who slept where for the night? It's not like she made a point to spend time here. They were working professionals.

But that was naive, came the other voice in her head, the one that sounded like Nick all of a sudden. Or maybe she was willfully blinding herself.

Judy turned her key and kicked the door open. "We'll worry about it when there's not a couch in the way."

\---

It took much grunting and straining, a removal of all of the couch's cushions and standing it up on its long edge, but they managed to get it through the door without damaging too much of the trimwork. They lugged it into the only open space that made sense, against the wall at the foot of her bed. Nick cocked his head at it from the middle of the room.

"That'll work."

Judy shut the door behind her. She'd have to take the tools back at some point, but for now they stood behind where the door opened without taking up too much space.

The couch was appealingly soft when she sat on it, if a little lumpy. The fabric was pilling.

"I didn't think ahead about the lack of predators," she said. Best to get it out there. "I'm sorry."

"I'm squatting, then, am I?" Nick asked. A smile ghosted on his muzzle and he looked at the door. "Because the landlord probably would have said something."

"Landlady," Judy corrected. "Little armadillo. She lives on the first floor. But there's laws against separation."

"You and I know that, but your neighbors might not." Nick sighed. "I'm sorry, Judy. I know it's not supposed to be an issue. I know I've been here before. But it's never been like this. It's the sort of thing I've always had to keep an ear on."

She closed her eyes and was sitting back in the skycar, listening to him tell her about his experience in scouts. How could she have forgotten? If anyone deserved to be more sensitive to predator-prey relations, it was Nick. She liked to think she wouldn't have left out something like that back before he left for the academy. They'd spent months apart now.

"I'm the one apologizing," she said. "Maybe this was shortsighted. It was this or the street, and I was so happy that I would be able to help-"

He raised a paw. "Accepted. I'm over it. I'm used to being careful. This will be no different."

He was humoring her, that little voice that sounded like him said. Trying to make this work for her sake. She had to keep that in mind.

"Did you bring anything you need to move in?" she asked. She didn't own enough stuff to meet the mathematical lower boundary of 'mess' herself, but she looked around anyway to see what she could shift around to make room for his backpack.

"It's all down in a locker at the station right now," he said. "I can go get it tomorrow."

"And food?"

He jerked a thumb at the microwave on the table behind him. "Your gourmet tastes seem to match mine. I'll put some stuff on the list."

And that was it. Nick was moved in. Judy fought a vague sense of anticlimax and ordered them a pizza for the night; half broccoli and half soysage. They seasoned it with red pepper from their garden and ate it there on the floor, like a proper bachelor and bachelorette. Nick didn't have any leftovers.

"Where'd you get this?" he asked.

"Louie's delivers."

Nick smacked his lips. "It's not bad. But if you want real pizza you have to go to Skyline, down by central station. It's been there since forever."

"Next time, then."

"Yeah." He dug in his pocket and handed over a few bills. "Anyway, here. My half."

"It's my treat."

He frowned at her. "You're putting me up. I'm going to pay my way."

"You don't have a job yet, technically."

"No, I don't. But you remember my two hundred bucks a day for twenty years thing?"

Judy gaped at him. "Seriously?"

"No. That was maybe eighty percent fabrication. But I am getting paid. Moving stipend."

Judy had to laugh. "It's a good thing I didn't actually take you in for that, then. I would have looked dumb."

Nick leaned back against the front of the couch. "You're right. Trussed up together with vines in the pouring rain was a much better first impression on Bogo."

Judy cleared away the remains of their meal, jamming the cardboard on a weird angle so it would fit in the fridge. Had that really only been a few months ago? It felt like a lot longer, though that was probably because she'd been so busy and he'd been off learning to be a cop.

Bogo had broken the news to her last month that Nick would be her partner, and that had only made the time crawl by even more slowly. The chief was being better about this than he had any need to be, even with the help Nick had lent during the predator crisis. He called it _live testing of the department's two newest almost-screw ups_ in that gruff way he had, but by now Judy was convinced there was an almost paternal side to the grousing. Or at least something indulgent. If the two screw-ups did actually screw up, Judy had no doubt there would be some rearranging.

"So are you ready to start taking orders?" she asked. "Sticking to a schedule?"

Nick paused where he'd moved to the couch proper. He bounced on the cushions. "That's what this is about."

"Nice press conference technique." She perched on the end of her bed nearest the couch. "Answer the question."

"ZPD's never had a fox before," Nick said. "So it might take them some getting used to, but yes. I'm ready."

"You're going to fit in just fine."

"Not worried about that, Carrots. I wasn't top of my class, but I was close." He looked at her. "I'm all kinds of useful, is all. You usually don't get cops coming in from the other side."

"Oh." There were policies in place for the management of sensitive information, at least that which came from those cooperating with the police. But Nick worked for them now. As far as Judy knew, there was not regulation for existing knowledge, or its use in investigations, or the protection of those who volunteered it. "Has Bogo said anything?"

Nick shrugged. "I haven't talked to him since I got into town."

He'd come straight here, in other words. Judy felt another moment of guilt for pushing ahead so quickly with this arrangement. He might have been anxious to see her - she was certainly happier than she'd been in a long time now that he was back - but he wasn't going to slot in like he'd never left, not at first. She looked over at him.

"You shut up!"

"No, YOU shut up!"

Judy jumped and checked her watch. She hadn't realized it was already 9PM.

Nick's ears slowly dropped as the Oryx-Antlersons continued their argument. Judy fought a laugh.

"This was not part of the deal," he said, and craned around as the knocking started its rough counterpoint to the raised voices.

"The walls are really thin, I'm sorry. Probably best to keep your voice down while you're here, just in case."

"Are they-"

"Yes."

"And do they-"

"Yes. Like, well, rabbits."

He heaved a resigned sigh. "It's like I never left barracks."


	2. Chapter 2

Judy woke just before her alarm, the way she always did. She slapped it off before it could even start beeping.

Her first conscious thought was that it smelled like fox in the apartment. Her heart accelerated, three hard beats until her brain finished booting and she remembered Nick had spent the night.

She rolled out of bed and jumped as he came out of the bathroom in the corner. His eyes seemed to glow in the predawn gloom.

"Morning," he whispered, out of either consideration for her or for the neighbors. He apparently hadn't caught her reaction.

"Hey." She grabbed her uniform and ducked into her little closet of a bathroom to scrub up and change. She was a little stiff, a little unused to sleeping in street clothes.

This was new - not the eyes thing, she should have expected that - but Nick being awake and active before she was. In the few opportunities they'd had to wake up near each other before, Judy had been the first one up, just out of habit. He'd usually stayed flat on his face, even when she brought him coffee. Police academy must have done him some good.

He got to his feet as she emerged. He'd changed while she'd been inside, out of his trademark green shirt into nicer-looking duty grey with the sleeves rolled up. His glasses were hooked on the chest pocket, but he didn't have any of the precinct tags on yet. 

He saw her looking. "What? They don't do jumpsuits in my size."

"There's an image." She belted on her radio and scraped the one key out of the little tray by the door. "Ready?"

The hallway was deserted, and the stairs, but Nick cast a look down every cross-corridor anyway. "That's one upside to morning shift."

"I can probably get a spare key from downstairs for you, but Mrs. Reagan will want to know why I need it."

"That's your landlady?" Nick asked. "Don't worry about it for now. I've got my phone. Just let me know when you're done for the day and we'll meet back up."

Morning foot traffic was light; they made it the four blocks to the metro station in time for the early departure. Judy sat on the edge of the bench seat. Nick held onto the pole by the door and stared at the system map on the wall. She studied his profile.

"How early were you up?" 

"Just a few minutes before you. I'm going onto day shifts, so it made sense to start synchronizing."

It was odd, hearing such rational noise come out of his mouth. She almost teased him about it, but the car had started to fill up so she kept the words to herself. Truth was, she'd kind of liked layabout Nick, liked the sort of effortless way he went about life and always got almost into trouble. This Nick stood straighter, looked a little older and stronger, seemed to think things through more.

Sure, he still cracked jokes like someone was paying him for it, but there were parts of the old Nick that he seemed to have buried, either thanks to his time at the academy or because he knew they weren't going to be compatible with a job as a police officer. 

She was still going to miss them.

They debarked into the now-mad press of a downtown in the throes of rush hour. Nick walked Judy to the station and into the lobby. Clawhauser came out of his seat waving at Nick.

"I've got to get to roll."

"I know. I'm just here to get my things."

"What will you do while I'm at work?"

"I'll walk around a bit." He fiddled with his glasses. "Ride the trains. I haven't seen the city for a while."

"From this side of the line, you mean."

"Right."

She thought she saw the confidence flicker in his ears, and she didn't blame him. He hadn't been back this way for months, after all. She should have let him go talk to Bogo yesterday.

"Stay out of trouble, then." As if he needed her reminder. "Do you have your badge?"

He tapped a claw to his chest so it clinked against something under his shirt. "Relax, Carrots. It's me."

"That's what I'm worried about."

\---

Judy stayed busy through her morning desk stint, polishing off report backlog. Most of the office drained out for lunch while she worked, and it wasn't until her own phone's alarm went off that she remembered to find something to eat herself.

She bolted celery and yogurt and read the roster board. That was surprising. She'd pulled patrol duty with Marki, who was taking a break from watching cold case phones and, if the twitch in her tail was anything to go by, was getting driven up the wall by the guys down in records. 

They sat in the cruiser in professional silence: Marki because she embodied professional silence, and Judy because she was happy to leave the subject of Nick's imminent arrival on the force alone. The rest of the team were giving her a lot of razzing for it, even more than she'd received when she first started. Something about the most blatant predator-prey pairing on the force so far.

They made traffic stops, sorted out a fender bender and even issued a few parking tickets for old times' sake. It was refreshing in the way a day of good focused work often was, and by the end of it Judy had decided she'd be perfectly happy doing the same thing for the rest of her career once Nick was her co-pilot. It was nothing against Marki; she just missed his insight.

Judy found him down by the pier again, where he was looking up at her building.

"Good shift?" He asked.

"Busy. You? How was it?"

"Fine. Enlightening, even. You forget how fast word gets around sometimes. Everyone I talked to seemed to know."

"That you're a cop?"

"Or will be." He affected a wounded pride. "They think it's hilarious. Slick Nick, going straight-arrow. None of them are going to take me seriously."

Judy seemed to remember a certain fox that laughed at police officers once upon a time. "I believe in you," she said.

His shoulders shifted. "I know. And it won't be anything we can't handle, once they realize you'll be after them if they don't come around. We'll do a good Good-Cop-Judy-Hopps, I think."

"I am not the bad cop," Judy bristled, and he smirked. "Do you want to put your things away?"

"They'll keep," Nick said. He pushed off the railing. "Let's get some food."

She led him up the stairs again that night, this time mercifully after the Oryx-Antlersons had settled their evening 'argument.' Nick slid the privacy chain home.

He owned a couple sets of clothing, a phone, a toothbrush, various sundries in his battered backpack and the cup of coffee in his paw. It all fit in the half of the clothing rack that Judy's own sparse effects didn't occupy.

He took out a dog-eared copy of the ZPD handbook and tossed it onto the couch. His couch. Judy frowned at it.

"What? They did teach me to read at the Academy."

She rolled her eyes. "It's just if you told me a few months ago that you'd be taking this so seriously, I would have laughed at you, too."

"You say that like you're not the literal poster child." Nick grinned up from the couch. "And you were the one who gave me the application."

"That I did. I guess I'm just glad you followed through with it."

"Hey, I committed." He turned a page. "I figure if I can retain half of what you did I'll be good."

She decided to take that at face value, because it justified the warmth in her ears a bit better. "You'd better pull your weight."

"Promise."

He read and she fussed with clothing on the rod so he'd have enough hangers for his limited collection of shirts. When she couldn't find anything else to tidy, Nick snapped his book closed and they sat together on the couch and shared earbuds so they could watch a movie on his phone without disturbing any neighbors. For a beater couch, it really wasn't bad. Judy might have dozed off right there if Nick hadn't eventually tugged the headphone out of her ear with half of The Dusk Prowler's world-saving escapade to go. 

"You've got work tomorrow."

"You won't get to say stuff like that much longer," she huffed. "Enjoy it while it lasts, because two Mondays from now I'm going to technically outrank you."

"Like I'm ever going to take orders from you, Carrots." He poked her shoulder. "Go on. Sleep now. More superheroes tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I boosted the pacing here a bit. Still not sure if I overdid it.

There were more superheroes tomorrow, and a complete cheese of an action flick the next night that was so bad they couldn't help but laugh through the whole thing, covering their muzzles to keep the noise down. Nick brought back the pizza he'd recommended for dinner that weekend, and sure enough it was better than Louie's. Judy switched out the contact in her address list. 

She was cruising through her shifts same as ever, but now it was because the excitement drove her. She hadn't exactly circled the next Monday in red on her desk calendar - just on her phone - but she endured the now totally played-out jokes from her teammates and tackled even the mountains of paperwork with the same enthusiasm she might pursue a fleeing suspect. 

Partners shared cubicles. She could hardly wait. His computer was all ready for when he got added to the admin system. She'd filled one of his drawers with the good clicky pens.

Judy had left him home alone in recent days, trusting him with the key to her place because he still didn't want to make her deal with awkward questions from Mrs. Reagan. According to his text, he was still there tonight, so she picked up noodles on the way home for both of them. 

In the lobby, she stopped to collect her mail. Mrs. Reagan had turned one of the outer rooms in her own house into an unofficial foyer. The mail came in a honeycomb of brass boxes so ancient each and every one had rusted shut, so picking it up usually involved discussion.

"Hi, Judy dear."

"Hello, Mrs. Reagan."

"Come on back here. I'm afraid there's a bit of a mess today, I'll have to double-check you get it all."

Judy stepped around the mail wall.

"All yours," she said, then flipped the stack of letters up out of Judy's reach. "None for your boyfriend that I could see, though."

Ice flooded Judy's belly. She barely registered the embarrassment chaser that shot through it.

"What? Who?"

"I'm not that old, dear." Mrs. Reagan looked over her bifocals and gave a little sigh. "Listen, I know you're an officer, which is why I'm letting it slide like this. You've never been any trouble. But if you want him to stay you're going to have to add him to the lease."

Judy considered denying it again, but there was just enough of an edge to the armadillo's voice and she was looking right at the double serving of to-go boxes. "He's not my boyfriend." There went the embarrassment again, melting the ice. "We're going to be partners on the force starting next week. He's trained to be a cop like me."

Mrs. Reagan shrugged. "It's really none of my business, except for the legal occupancy thing. I haven't had any complaints yet, but I think that's because he's so good at sneaking around."

Judy quashed the urge to get offended for Nick at the phrasing. "He starts on Monday. He'll be into his own apartment by then, as soon as the paperwork goes through."

Mrs. Reagan considered, and finally held out the letters. "As long as it's less than a week."

"Thank you," Judy said. She tucked them under her arm and her brain caught up. "Wait. You'd really add him to the lease? I thought this place was prey-only."

The landlady's lip quirked. "Noticed, did you?"

"I'm sorry. For what it's worth he certainly did, too. He knows better than to cause trouble."

"Oh, I have no doubt he's smart." Mrs. Reagan finally smiled. "I know everything that goes on in my building, dear, and I'm pretty sure I still only see him about half the time he's actually out and about."

Judy gave a weak smile. 

"Remember, one week."

"I will. Thank you."

Crap.

She took the stairs three at a time with the nervous energy. It wasn't something she could keep from Nick, obviously, but he wasn't going to take it well. For a moment when they'd first come this way, he'd looked about ready to turn around and leave. It was still sensitive for him, and Judy wasn't sure he'd cooled down enough not to overreact. And yes, it would be overreaction. She would have to fight him on it.

She ghosted down her hallway. The early evening sun was streaming in her apartment window. She could see its light spreading from the gap at the bottom of the door.

She tapped on the panel instead of knocking, because it felt clandestine now. She didn't think anyone on this floor kept tabs on her like she sometimes did them, but she wasn't about to draw attention. Her next-door neighbors were doing plenty of that for all of them right now.

Wood creaked, claws clicked on the floor. The shadow of two paws and a tail paused on the other side of the door. "Who is it?"

Judy frowned at his whisper, but she was whispering, too. "It's me! Let me in."

The bolt scraped and the chain rattled and he opened the door ninety degrees. Was he hiding behind it?

She crossed into the room. "What's with the cloak and dagger stuff?"

He pushed the door closed behind her. It answered her question, conjured up about fifty new ones, and did a good job of sending the rest of her train of thought spiraling off the rails.

There was a shirtless fox in her apartment. What would her mother think?

"Hi," he said.

She had nothing, so he moved, locking the door behind her and crossing to the couch where his shirt was in a heap. She didn't want to look but she did anyway; he was cream and russet and chocolate and deceptively fit and breathing hard.

"Explain," Judy finally ground out. Her ears burned. He'd be able to see that.

"Calisthenics," Nick said. He turned, his shirt back in place, and held up both paws. "Promise. It was either push-ups or compose a theme and variations to 'No, you shut up.'" He gestured to the rattling pictures as if it proved his point. "Do your neighbors even have jobs?"

She'd cleaned the apartment yesterday; nothing looked out of place but she knew she was going to turn it upside down counting her underwear anyway, just in case. It made no sense to think that, wasn't fair to him to think that, and here she was thinking it anyway, even as her ears picked up the hiss of tiny speakers: his earbuds, on the couch where he'd dropped his phone to answer the door.

"You couldn't go outside? There's a park two blocks from here."

Nick had the decency to squirm, at least. "I wasn't going to go out there in the middle of the afternoon. Too many eyes in the hallways."

Dumb fox. Stupid, stir-crazy, hypersensitive dumb fox. He wasn't going to enjoy what she had to tell him at all.

"We're going anyway. Someplace we can walk and talk."

"Okay."

"We'll take the elevator," Judy said, and scrabbled for a plausible lie. He'd given her one, actually. "The lobby was really busy when I came up."

\---

They wound up at the skycars. Judy had carried their food the whole way, reasoning Nick had earned a bit of a wait until they tucked in.

He was playing it nonchalant the way he always did, but she had the satisfaction of seeing his ears tick back just a bit every time he caught her looking at him.

They got in their car and left the suburbs behind in a slow climb toward the rainforest. They'd be going right through the nightly storm, it looked like.

Judy gave him one last raised eyebrow and handed over the warmer box of noodles.

"I'm sorry about earlier." Nick hadn't even opened the lid yet. He was serious. "That was casual of me."

Her anger wouldn't stick, no matter how hard she tried to pin it down. It wasn't even anger, really, just the indignation you were supposed to feel when you caught your best friend doing something weird in your apartment. And the surprise. She'd never seen Nick doing push-ups before. 

"I'm over it," she said. She seemed to believe it, too. "I was at the academy, too. I've seen worse. And better."

Nick's face screwed up. "Thanks, I think. Now we're even."

Judy carried on eating in silence, because it beat trying to turn her brain back to the original problem. Funny thing, how a shirtless fox could be a welcome distraction.

They started into the rain of the upper canopy. It drummed white noise against the roof of the car; trickled awry over a dent in the built-in drains to drip on the end of the bench seat. Judy scooted over.

"You said you might be able to get a spare key," Nick floated after a while. "I could leave without locking you out and come back on my own when it's later. If your landlady doesn't ask about a mysterious stranger."

There it was, forced and over with. Judy sighed. "She knows already."

"What? Since when?"

"I don't know. She told me today. Right when I got back."

His muzzle was pointed at her but he was looking past her. Judy watched his teeth go on edge. "That was fast."

"She said she doesn't care, Nick. I told her you were only here until your own place opens up on Monday, and she's okay with that. She's not going to pitch a fit over two cops."

"Little old lady, you said? She the gossipy type?"

"Nick-" 

"Motive 101," he cut her off. "What's she got to gain by telling you she knows if she doesn't care? It might not be her, Carrots, but someone's not happy with us."

She spread her paws, exasperated. "You think maybe she's an actual decent person who just wants to level with me? Not everyone's out to get you."

His ears dropped at that one, and he looked out over the canopy. "That'd be nice."

Judy would have moved to get closer to him, but his ears and tail were all wrong. She let him watch the rain, until he reached up and pulled the cable for the next stop.

"What is this about, Nick?"

It took him a long while to sigh. "There's still a lot of the world against you, even as a cop. Especially as a cop, sometimes. It's not always going to be pretty."

"I know that." She flicked back to the morning he'd left her in the precinct lobby, with that inimitable grin and the tap of his claws on the badge around his neck. "If you've seen things, or heard things Bogo needs to know about-"

"Not like that." He turned to her, his expression pinched. The tram stop was coming up, a little spur of rain-slicked awning that stuck out from the canopy. "I don't have enemies, not since you got Big to re-adopt me. I would never have agreed to stay with you if I'd thought it would be that dangerous." 

"I've seen how you keep my door locked," she told him. 

"Judy, I promise." Nick's voice almost broke. He swallowed and squeezed her shoulders. "I will never bring something like that on you. I'm talking about the quieter downsides of what we're getting into. The attention we'll get."

"I'm ZPD's first rabbit officer," Judy said. "You're ZPD's first fox. We'll figure our way through."

Hope and pity and something that looked like guilt jumbled together on his face. 

"Where are we going?"

Nick eyed the tram station. "You're going home to get some rest without your roommate distracting everyone." He poked a finger at her chest. "I'm getting some air."

The car lurched and started to slow. "But it's pouring rain," Judy said. "Are you just going to walk back?"

"Eventually."

"Nick, we're almost on the other side of the city. That'll take hours."

"Then it takes hours. I need to clear my head. Sorry, Carrots."

"But-"

"Shush. Go sleep." He put his paws on her shoulders again and made her sit on the bench. He'd made up his mind. "I'll be along."

"I'm not closing my eyes until you knock on my door, you stupid fox."

"Sleep." He stepped out onto the walkway.

"And then I'm going to tase you, so help me, Nick-"

He was gone, swallowed by the rain.

Judy gritted her teeth. There were some things about him she was just never going to understand. 

She should have gone with him. Now was not the time of night to be wandering around the back roads in the rainforest district alone. He knew what happened here sometimes; she'd seen him reading the latest briefings just the other day.

More to the point, now was not the time she wanted to be alone. She sat off-center in the car so the growing puddle from the roof wouldn't soak her pants and tried to make sense of it. 

He had a right to be angry. With her, specifically, since she'd asked this of him. The staying with her for the time before he started his new job; the getting the new job in the first place. It felt like it made whatever he was going through her fault. She was making him do things he wasn't comfortable with, trying to fit him into her life and satisfy her own impulses in ways that just weren't going to work.

He had never let her see that it bugged him, until now. And he still didn't direct his anger or his fear at her. He'd wanted to spare her something.

By the time she made it home to her dark room, that carried his presence and scent as much as it did hers now, Judy had decided she wouldn't blame him if he didn't come back. 

It didn't stop her from staring at the door until she fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

_Click._

She barely registered the noise at first, it was so familiar.

_Scrape._

Someone was outside, working the lock.

Nick wasn't here. It wasn't him, he'd left her in the rain an hour ago-

Four steps and Judy was across the room, pushed by training she'd never used. Her service taser was in its belt holster, hanging off the table. It whined softly, clicked green.

The tumbler rolled. They didn't know how this lock was loose, that you had to lift up on it just so to get the bolt to engage.

Judy stacked the door, on the hinge side the way she'd found Nick, so whoever came in would have their back to her first.

He'd got it wrong, somehow. Lied to her to keep her from worrying, maybe. And instead of being angry with him for putting her in danger, she was just desperately glad he wasn't here now. Someone had the drop on her, but at least they wouldn't get him, too.

This time they got it and the door opened. Judy leveled her stun gun.

Pointed ears. Wolf? But the mass was all wrong, the footfall was too light, the scent-

Oh, crackers.

"Carrots?"

"Nick!" Her knees went weak.

He turned, eyes wide at the gun in his face, and then he smiled.

"That's my girl."

Anger beat the relief. "You stupid, stupid fox, I nearly dropped you-"

He hugged her, muffled the rest of it. She swung her gun anyway, trying to land a good smack on his back, but her arms weren't long enough and he'd picked her up. He leaned back against the door and it snapped shut again.

"Nick, put me down."

He complied, and turned to lock the bolt again and rattle the chain.

"Always lock this. I got way farther than anyone ever should."

"Nick-"

He held up a paw. "Promise me. Please."

Judy stared up at him, the feelings in her chest cooling as she got another good look at his expression.

"I promise."

The cloud on his face vanished under his relentless humor again. "Good. Why are you awake?"

Judy stood there in her oversize nightshirt and considered clocking him one anyway. "In case I needed to take my home invader's coat. What, did you pick my lock?"

"Actually, I talked to your landlady." He flicked a single key into the air like a coin. "She caught me sneaking in. Said she saw you come through earlier and and gave me an earful about scaring the neighbors and breaking your heart. She made me promise not to lose this, too. Apparently it's the only spare."

It was too much. Judy sat on her bed, taser in paw, and gaped at him. It was amazing how sixty seconds could just wring her out. The adrenaline was ebbing, letting her crash on hope and happiness and the knowledge that she really could sleep now.

"I figured it was late enough to get away with it quietly. Nope." Nick held out his paw for the gun and clicked the safety back on. "But getting noticed, officially noticed, was going to happen sooner or later. It's best it happened without witnesses."

"Nick, I'm sorry-"

"It's okay, Carrots." He stood and put her taser away. His tail swept in the gloom. "I'm working this out. It's just taking more time than I know you want it to. I don't want to drag you through it with me."

He refused to say anything else. He just pointed her at her pillow until she crawled back under the sheets, then he pulled off his shirt and stretched out on the couch.

Judy stared at the ceiling long after Nick's breathing slowed down. The whole situation felt like a soap bubble that might pop if she looked too closely at it now. He'd come back, nearly given her a heart attack, smoothed over everything like it had never even happened. Hugged her. He might be lying to her, too, and she had to figure that out.

Being partners was either going to be the best experience of her life, or it was going to kill her with the stress.

Judy took a deep breath of his presence and marveled at how that could even her out. 'Fox' was hardwired somewhere in her brain to trigger fight or flight; had been since she was born. When she'd first met him, she'd nearly nailed him with fox spray without so much as saying a word. When they'd hit the first real snag in their time together, she'd almost drawn on him again. And tonight - well, tonight didn't count. She hadn't known it was him, until she caught his scent.

And this time it had inverted on her. Somewhere along the way it had stopped meaning 'run' and started meaning 'trust' and 'comfort' and 'best friend.' She let her guard down around him now, relaxed probably like no rabbit in history ever had. Maybe that was why he worried for her.

He could worry if he wanted, Judy decided. He was her fox now.

Her fox.

\---

And it was as close to happily ever after as a rabbit and a fox could have managed.

They spent three more picture-perfect days that way. Judy kept busy with work and Nick kept busy with everything else. He stocked her fridge with food, signed lease paperwork ahead of his Monday move date, got his precinct patches for his uniforms and modeled them for Judy that night. Nobody gave them trouble, and the issue of trouble never came up. Judy would lock her door for the evening and they would just be themselves around each other.

They went for long walks until it was safe to sneak up to Judy's room. They watched movies and gossiped about the force and matched each other push-up for push-up whenever the Oryx-Antlersons got into it. They'd stopped sleeping in street clothes. On Saturday night, they ordered takeout and sat on the floor and Nick sharked Judy at poker while they waited for it to arrive. Neither had money to spare, so they bet memorized passages from city statues and the police code. Her encyclopedic knowledge balanced out his skill at cards, meant she could afford to lose more.

Judy called a halt when there was a rap at the door. Nick, still loath to send the wrong impressions, even to the delivery guy, moved to the couch and cracked open his manual again. She rolled her eyes.

The door unlocked and instead of steaming boxes of broccoli and rice Judy was staring at a wall of familiar blue uniform.

"Fangmire?"

"Hopps?" The tiger sounded just as surprised. He stepped back. Judy saw his partner, Torren, going from nonchalance against the wall to confusion. "I knew this apartment number sounded familiar."

"What's going on?" Judy rotated an ear to Nick, who had frozen on the couch behind her.

"We got a noise complaint," Torren said. "Sounds like someone got it wrong, though." The wolf's nostrils flared, and he looked past Judy to Nick. His ears went to attention. "And Nicholas Wilde. How about that?"

"Gentlemen." Nick came up behind her. She moved over to make room. "What's this about?"

"Well, I don't hear any noise," Fangmire rumbled, cocking his head as if to check. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Torren. "So nothing, it sounds like. Congratulations. You guys got sicced."

"Great." Judy glanced at Nick's carefully arranged expression and tapped her foot. "Any idea who did it, so I can write them up?"

Torren chuckled. "We've got a room number for a squirrel widow from the nice lady downstairs. She vouched for both of you, by the way."

"We'll go have a chat with our caller," Fangmire said. The irony of some old squirrel wanting two predator cops to do her dirty social work for her didn't seem to be lost on him. "Sounds like she needs a refresher on noise ordinances anyway. And segregation law."

"I'm so sorry for the trouble, guys. I owe you. Send me your paperwork, something." Bogo was going to rake her over the coals.

Torren waved Judy's apology away. "Don't worry about it. Have a nice night." He grinned at Nick, showing teeth. "See you Monday, rook."

Judy and Nick stood in the doorway and watched the police leave, crowding to one side as they did to let a wide-eyed raccoon carrying take-out boxes pass. Judy held out their bills and wordlessly accepted the delivery.

The food sat once again forgotten. As soon as the door closed, Nick's nonchalance collapsed.

"Judy, I have to go."

"Please," she snorted. "You're going to let one whiny old lady make up your mind for you?"

"Someone just called the _police_ on you," Nick hissed, his ears flat. "What are you going to do when it happens again? 'Oh, sorry, you know those wacky backwards neighbors, see you at work tomorrow?' You know that's not going to fly with them for long, and your landlady isn't going to want to cover for me forever."

"You think I care what they think?" Judy asked. "I've worked with these guys for months. They're not going to give us any trouble."

"Judy, you saw Torren. He pointed like he'd found fucking heroin." Nick paced. "Working together is going to be hard enough without the force looking weird at both of us, too. The rest of the world just isn't ready for this, Carrots. It doesn't know us the way we do, or care."

The soap bubble shimmered in Judy's vision, threatening to burst. It felt like admitting defeat. She could still pretend this wasn't putting a strain on Fangmire and Mrs. Reagan and everyone else around them. She could still pretend not to notice when her neighbors watched her pass from inside their own doorways and pretend not to notice when Nick double-checked her locks every night.

He tried to do it, too. He compromised everything to try to stay until he felt he had no other choice, and now when he really was against the wall, all he did was to try to shield her from the world outside. Judy could see it in the tension of his shoulders, the curl of his tail that meant he was trying to sort through something internal without collateral damage.

"So that's it?"

Nick stared at the floor. "Don't say it like that."

"Where will you go?" she asked.

He got a sad smile.


	5. Chapter 5

She went with him.

They spent their last night before the rest of their lives sitting on the bridge by the old airfield, eating cold takeout and watching the stars.

"I want to pay you back for finding me a couch," Nick said when he'd finished scraping the last of the rice out of his box.

Judy blinked. "It was free. Haulage." 

"You let me stay rent-free for two weeks," he persisted. "Can I buy you dinner? A nice dinner, not something that comes in waxed cardboard."

"You're not going to accept no for an answer anyway, no matter how much I tell you you don't owe me anything," she said. At least he'd be able to afford it now without her feeling guilty about it. His actual, taxable salary started up in two days.

Speaking of...

"If the two hundred bucks a day thing was mostly made up, why did you come with me way back when?"

Nick's brow furrowed down at the dirt path below them, and Judy smiled. There weren't many people who could catch his quick mind flat-footed.

"Tax evasion is tax evasion," he said at last. "The percentages don't change the jail time. At first I was scared because you sounded like you might actually try to put me away, because you were one of those stuck-up bookish cops that takes the law seriously."

She poked him with her fork. "You're one of those in 48 hours. Get used to it."

"Yeah."

"And after that?"

She watched him smile. 

"Why, indeed?"

She gave him credit. There weren't many people who could render her speechless.

They sat there until the second-to-last train of the night rattled by on its way downtown. Nick got to his feet. 

"Time you got back." 

"What, I can't stay here?"

"Under a bridge is no place for a rabbit. What would the neighbors think?"

The soap bubble floated along in Judy's mind. "Why are you so scared for me?"

"It's not very rational, is it?" He let her lean against his chest. He was solid, noticeably more so than the last time she'd done this. "I'm sorry it stresses you. It's not fair."

"I worry for you. You still haven't talked to Bogo, have you?"

"Judy." He chewed on the words. "I'm a former con artist, not a former hitmammal. I can only give you my word that my past isn't coming for me. Promise. It's just me being stupid."

"I believe you."

"Promise me you'll humor me, then. Don't let it get to the point of tasers."

Judy smiled through her now-foggy vision. He chose weird things to be proud of her for. "Deal."

They walked to the train station. It was quiet. The day's commuters were already home; now it was just the occasional lone figure or two working their way under the streetlights, like them. Nick and Judy paused under a blown lamp just before the stairs to the platform.

It was so wrong to leave him out here, but Judy knew it was what he wanted if the world was going to deny him his couch in her apartment. 

"Do you want something for breakfast?" She asked. "I can bring bagels."

"Don't you dare get out of bed on my account," Nick said. "It's your last morning before you have to deal with me for the rest of time. You'll be sick of me in a month, just watch."

The laugh and the sob fought in her chest and emerged as a hiccup. "Never you, fox."

They waited the five minutes, the five nanoseconds for the next train. When it settled into the platform in a hiss of brakes and hot metal, Nick had to let her go - but not before he dipped his head to press his muzzle, ever so gently, along the inside edge of one of her ears. 

"Go get some rest, Carrots."

\---

She didn't, of course. She sat on the couch and closed her eyes and it was almost like Nick was there. 

He'd made her give Mrs. Reagan the extra key. Maybe he'd come get it back, or maybe he really would break in this time. She'd forgive him that, because he'd forgive her, because her door was chained shut this time.

She shouldn't worry about him. Knowing him, he was sitting on a roof downtown right now, watching the lights, getting used to the view. He'd be able to see them from his new place. 

Judy had a fantasy already of Nick showing off the apartment for her, laughing at her because she'd turned down a slot of her own, one that might have put her right next to his room. Now she did regret that decision. It had to be better than these peeling walls and half-reliable heat and paranoid neighbors. Maybe she could submit a request if Bogo's offer was still good, if she had any credit left after tonight's visit from the night patrol. Somehow she doubted that.

So she did the next best thing. 

She pulled her blanket from her bed, curled up in the lumpy depression right in the middle of the green cushions, and started a search on her phone.

There had to be at least one couch downtown someone was looking to get rid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](https://falke-scribblings.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [chronology](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yPmpmdo39SmiRNC4BJVv2PAWi7fxBoP5FWba9n8s3qg/edit?usp=sharing)


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